Chameleon Soul
by theycallherdestruction
Summary: "She is unlike anyone we have ever witnessed move into this house." Moria muttered under her breath. "Yes, well, not everyone moves here with a Ouija board attached to their hip and the ability to not be filled with horror by all of us. What a strange girl." Constance uttered back.
1. Chapter One

"Holy hell." I muttered, stepping out of my tiny red car and gazing at the beautiful house before me.

I had found the place online. _The Murder House_ was its formal name and I figured that's why it was sold to me for such a cheap price. I didn't know much about it, just that it had a pretty gruesome past with many murders and suicides. A lot of people had said the place was haunted or cursed, but none of it fazed me.

I wasn't inexperienced with ghosts. I was a rare soul when it came to such a subject. My mother had always pestered me about my obsession with Ouija boards and tarot cards and performing séances when given the chance. She had always wanted to protect me, my mother.

I would have never thought that, in the end, she and my father would have been the ones that were so fragile. I shivered recalling the unpleasant memories.

I quickly shook it off, beginning to grab my boxes of what little bit I did bring, as well as bringing in the animal carrier that contained my only friend at the moment: a small, black cat named Salem. I hadn't transported much. More than anything I had just wanted to leave that place and all its memories behind and if that meant departing with most of my things, then so be it.

Once I dropped my things onto the living room floor and, I began to explore the house. The up side to buying this place was that I wouldn't be required to buy any furniture. The previous owners had left everything…and I mean everything. Some sort of tragedy was what I had been informed of. Either way, I knew I'd find out what really happened in the house soon enough, I always did.

I explored the few bedrooms that were upstairs. I could have picked any one of them as mine, the master probably would have been ideal, but something drew me to one of the smaller rooms that appeared as though a teenager had dwelled in it. It was kind of comforting.

After all, I was still a teenager myself. I had just recently turned eighteen before my parents' demise and though I suppose it made me a coward, I ran as far away from those recollections as I could the first chance I got.

I began to rearrange to my liking and start putting my things up. Out of the couple boxes I brought, the first thing I pulled out was my Ouija board. I placed it on my dresser, setting up candles around it along with my sage.

I had been mocked as a witch when I had gone to school in my former town, but I guess they were kind of right.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and I awkwardly paced back downstairs to open it.

Standing on my front porch was an elderly woman with bright red hair in what appeared to be a maid costume. I raised my eyebrows suspiciously before giving into my curiosity and creaking open the door.

"Hello?" I muttered.

"Hello there. I hear you are the new residence of this home?" Her voice was so proper and modest.

"Uh, yes ma'am. Can I help you?"

"Well, you see, I have been a maid to the many owners of this house for several years and I hoped you'd let me continue that tradition."

I sighed. "As awesome as it sounds to have a maid, I just don't think I'd have the extra money-"

"Oh, no payment would be necessary. I simply wish to be able to go on doing something that occupies my time and that I feel comfortable with."

I paused for a moment, glancing behind me at how much work this house was going to be. Though it seemed somewhat suspicious, I knew that cleaning this whole place by myself would be exhausting. "Okay…well…if that's what you really want then sure."

"Good. I will be back early tomorrow morning. I look forward to it."

Shutting the door, I sprinted into the living room and collapsed onto one of the chairs as Salem curled up on my stomach.

"Well, Salem, I have a feeling this is going to be quite the adventure


	2. Chapter Two

The next morning was filled with more rearranging, as well as getting accustomed to Moria strolling through the house.

"Miss. Addams! You have a visitor!" she called out to me.

I sprinted to the door and opened it, reveling another older woman, expect this one had a tight blonde updo.

"You must be the new neighbor!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Constance, nice to meet you."

"Jetta,"

"My, what an odd name. Hm. Well, I live just across the street right there and I wanted to introduce myself and…is that sage I smell in there?"

I was slightly taken aback by her over the top persona and it took me a second to register everything before I finally replied. "Yeah, I burn it frequently."

"Ah, so you've heard about the horrific past, I take it?"

"I've been burning sage to clear negative energy long before I moved here, but yes, I have heard the stories. It's shocking so many awful things could happen in one house, but it was cheap and I needed the escape."

"I see…might I ask, are you living in this huge, spacious house all by yourself? And you look so young. How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen. I moved here after some…unfortunate events happened."

"Eighteen…that's how old…ah, well, never mind that. Welcome to the neighborhood!"

I forced a smile. "Thanks."

It wasn't until a few days later that I got the next of many pop up visitors: a blonde haired boy named Tate.

"So, everyone's saying you're only eighteen?"

We sat on chairs in the living room talking about the random shit in our lives. It was refreshing to just have someone my age that I could actually have a conversation with.

"Yeah, I turned eighteen this spring."

"It's summer now…that means you haven't been eighteen long. What made you run all the way out here by yourself?"

"No disrespect meant, but it's a touchy subject so I'd rather not talk about it. All I'll say is things got fucked up at my original hometown and I had to bolt."

He nodded understandably. "I know what you mean."

"So, what kind of music do you listen to?"

He gave me a huge grin, reveling dimples. "Heard of _Nirvana_?"

I chuckled. "Who hasn't? They're not bad, but as far as 90's grunge goes, I was always more fond of _Garbage_."

"They were pretty good, too."

Once everyone had left and the beauty of the night fell over the earth, I went up to my room and began lighting candles, incense, and sage.

Placing the Ouija board before me, I gently touched the planchette and eyed it intently as it began to dart around the board.

As the days I had spent in my new home passed, I began to feel the presence of the many spirits in the house more intensely and I had settled in enough that I wanted to see if I could contact them. It wasn't new to me to attempt to keep up with the letters it scurried to spell out, seeing as I had done this many times before.

"Is someone here?" I asked aloud.

_Yes. _

"What's your name?"

_You'll die here._

That would terrify most people and honestly, it probably should, but I wasn't most people.

"I asked your name."

_V...i…v…i…e…n_

It spelled out the name much slower than it had any of the other things it said, but I remained patient.

"Vivien?"

_You need to leave._

"I'm not leaving. This is my home now."

_It is everyone's home._

"Who's everyone?"

_Everyone who has died here._

"Did you die here?"

_Yes._

"How?"

_Child birth._

"How many others are here?"

_Several. Leave…now._

Eventually I ended the session and after saging my board, I put it away. Whoever Vivian was, she would be the most dominant spirit on the board tonight and she obviously only had one point to make.

After putting my long, pink hair up into a bun, I changed into shorts and a tank top before slipping into bed beside Salem and drifting to sleep.


	3. Chapter Three

I woke up to the sound of banging over me. I stayed motionless in bed for a moment, reminding myself the house did have an attic I hadn't yet ventured into.

Creeping out of the covers, I staggered to the string hanging from the ceiling to pull it down.

The air in the attic was much thicker than downstairs and I started to feel suffocated by the heat, but still, I crawled up the steps and began to gaze over the leftover things covered with heavy layers of dust.

"Hello?" I called out.

There was more rummaging, expect this time it was much closer.

Chill bumps covered my body and I was certain that the presence that was here was not of a person who was still alive. But…fear…I also sensed so much fear.

"You don't have to be scared." I muttered.

Out from the shadows, a heavily disfigured guy wobbled towards me.

I gasped quietly before gulping air and calming myself before I tottered to him.

He was trying desperately to conceal his face and I felt a sense of sadness sweep over me.

"Hey…you don't have to hide. It's okay."

He began to hesitantly shift his hands away and I gave a comforting smile.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"B-Beau…"

"It's nice to meet you, Beau. My name is Jetta." I said once we were only feet away from each other.

"Beau doesn't…scare you?"

"Why would you scare me?"

"Beau is hideous."

"That's not-"

"Beau is repulsive."

I edged closer to him, gently placing my hand on his shoulder.

"You're not hideous or repulsive. You're just unique. Everyone is different and special in their own way. Who would ever make you believe that you are those things?"

"Mom…I…I'm so sorry."

He began sobbing hysterically and I pieced together that his mother had been ashamed of him and locked him up here which probably resulted in his death.

In the most compassionate way I could, I gave him a small hug. "Hey, now. It's okay."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and turned around to walk back downstairs.

"I'll come back and visit, okay?" I told him.

He nodded and after wiping away tears, made a smile.

I dashed to the door and yanked it open.

"Tate!" I exclaimed, rapidly becoming aware of how short my bottoms were and how much cleavage my tank top had to be revealing.

"Oh…uh… did I come at a bad time?"

I blushed viciously. "Nah, you're fine. Come on in."

"So, what were you up to?" he asked while I poured myself a cup of coffee.

"Not much, really. Just exploring the attic."

He paused and stared at me for a moment. "What did you find up there?"

"Lost memories."

"I'm sure this house has a lot of those."

I nodded before lighting up a cigarette and breathing it in.

"You do that, too?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just…my ex used to smoke, too."

"Your ex? You're not in a relationship?"

He raised his eyebrow. "No."

"That's shocking, really."

"Shocking?"

"All I'm saying is I know how the girls at my old school would have reacted if you had been around them."

He laughed. "Now that's shocking."

"You'd be surprised. So, who's your ex, lover boy?"

"Her name is Violet. But things got…complicated and we didn't work out."

"I'm sorry, man. I know how that goes." I inhaled my cigarette once more, "Do you still love her?"

"I said I'd wait forever if I have to and I know I meant it, but…it's been a few years now and I don't think she will come around."

"That's rough."

"It's just…it's just bullshit, you know? I was doing better. I was…trying so hard and then I fucked up and now I'm all alone-"

"Hey," I muttered while walking to him and forcing him to look at me. "I know life can be shitty, but if it counts for anything, you have a friend in me. I'm no Violet, but I am Jetta and I would at least hope that's better than nothing." I made a small laugh. "I don't know. I'm pretty nutty sometimes, though."

His features softened and he made a grin. "I guess that's better than nothing."

"I appreciate the sincerity, Tate." I replied through laughter.

Later on that day, as I went on with my daily obligations, Moria stopped me.

"Forgive me if I'm being rude, but may I ask you a personal question?"

I gave her a puzzled expression, but nodded. I had grown a liking to Moria, it was nice to have someone around the house other than my cat.

"What happened to your parents?"

I took a breath before replying. "They were murdered. I found the bodies."

"Oh…I…I'm terribly sorry that I asked and brought up such terrible memories, Miss. Addams."

"Don't be. You have every reason to wonder why I moved here by myself at such a young age. I don't blame you for being curious."

"I know I am nowhere near the standards of a mother, but if you need someone to talk to or just be there, do not hesitate to tell me."

I smiled. "That really means a lot, Moria, Thank you."

I cried myself to sleep that night. I suppose mentioning it at all brought all those dreadful things that I had tried to suppress back to the surface.

It wasn't just the death of my parents or even the horrific event of discovering their corpses, what had followed after was what had forced me to flee my home.

Everyone in town knew I dabbled in the unknown and it terrified the tiny, Christian town that I had lived in to no end that there was someone who wouldn't abide by their rules and restrictions.

When the death of my parents came out to the public, even after they had proved I was completely innocent, the religious nutcases accused me of using them as some sort of satanic sacrifice. It was just a few people at first, but then the numbers grew and grew until I had become a complete outsider in my own town, but I wasn't a killer and I never could be. My compassion for others was too dominant in me to ever be anything but a caregiver.

With tears streaming down my face, I punched and screamed into my pillow, but all the while, I could feel someone's eyes on me. I didn't know who it was, but I could feel an overwhelming sense of sympathy which eventually comforted me enough to fall into a slumber.


	4. Chapter Four

As soon as I woke that morning, I sprinted to the attic. That was one of those tiny, random facts about me: making someone else happy could help me forget my troubles, at least for a moment.

When I found Beau, I smiled and strolled over to him. "Hey there."

"You came." He muttered with a bewildered grin.

"I told you I would. Now, Beau, what's something that you want that would make you overjoyed to have?"

I was expecting a response about something materialistic, maybe even a food or drink he enjoyed, but his answer stunned me for a moment. "A family…Beau just wants a family."

I frowned before sitting before him. "Did you have a family when you were alive?"

He nodded. "Mother and sister and brother."

"Is your sister still alive?"

He shook his head, starting to look gloomy.

"Well, how about this: I'll be your sister. And we can play board games and cards…can you not leave this attic?"

"Mother said I'm not supposed to."

"Well, fuck what your mother said. You can come down and have your very own room. God knows I have more than enough space. How does that sound?"

He was thrilled now, I could feel it radiating off him as he nodded eagerly. I was starting to understand the reality of these ghosts. They weren't like the normal ones. If they wanted you to see them, they would appear no different than any other human being which started to raise questions in my mind.

"Good. Come on, I'll come with you to help you pick out your room, but then I have things I need to attend to."

Once Beau had picked the master bedroom as his own, I informed Moria that I needed her to help with changing the theme to something that would appeal to a child. I expected her to ambush me with questions, but she didn't, she merely smiled.

That left me with the task of looking at jobs. Though I still had quite a chunk of cash from the inheritance money I had been given, I knew that I wouldn't be able to live off of it forever, so I took the initiative of searching for ways to earn a decent amount of money.

"Jetta?" Constance sternly said, making me pull my eyes away from my laptop to her.

"How did you get into my house?"

"Moria let me in. I think we need to have a talk."

"Excuse me?"

"You seem to like to dip into things that could cause you trouble."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your sage burning will not rescue you from the darkness that resides in this house."

"You came here to ridicule my energy clearing techniques?"

"I came here to warn you. Your positive light shines to negative entities a mile away. They won't hesitate to cling to you."

"You don't really strike me as the kind to help anyone unless you think it will benefit you."

She puffed on her cigarette before blowing the smoke towards me. "It'd be a shame to see a girl with such potential be destroyed like all the others."

"You may not understand this, but you wouldn't believe the power there is in simply believing that no one, human or spirit, can cause you harm unless you allow them to. And I'm not advertising myself as a victim."

She raised her eyebrow at me before turning to leave. "We shall see, girl. We shall see."

"This is starting to become a daily thing, you coming to see me and all." I observed out loud.

"You're like a blooming flower compared to all the dull people around here." Tate answered.

"I'm not sure what that means, but hey, I'll take it."

"It means…you're just a ray of light amongst a bunch of people who have never even seen the sun."

"Damn, Tate. I didn't know you could be poetic."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't trying to."

"Can I ask you something?" I started twirling my spoon in my mug of tea, wondering how he'd react to the question.

"Yeah, anything."

"Do you believe in ghosts or things existing beyond the grave?"

"I do, actually. Why?"

"It's just that…well…I always have, but a couple days ago, when I was up in my attic, I came in contact with a spirit and it's like-I mean really like he's human, but I know he's not. It's just really odd."

Tate straightened his posture and furrowed his brows. "Who was the spirit?"

"His name's Beau. He's…erm…special, would be the most polite term, but he really is a sweetheart. I brought him down from the attic and let him pick a room to stay in. I suspect most of his life that existed was spent up there so I figured he could use, you know, somewhat of a family in some way. Does that make sense?"

"It does…I'm glad you didn't shun him out. I can only imagine that it means the world to him."

"I could never. Not after some of the things I've been through myself."

He nodded. "You're exactly what this house needs."

"I don't know about that. I'm just me." I solemnly replied.


	5. Chapter Five

"You're finally up?"

"Shit!" I screeched as I fell off my bed and flopped onto the floor.

"Hey…you okay?"

"Tate…what the hell are you doing in my room?"

"The door was unlocked."

"Not that it isn't cool to see you and all, but Jesus Christ, you can't just waltz into people's houses and hover over them like that when they first wake up. You almost give me a heart attack." I rambled.

"Sorry about that." He replied with a chuckle.

"Also, you've had to witness my morning drool streak and I had desperately hoped, for your sake at least, that you would never have to witness such a thing."

He scrunched up his nose with a vivid grin. "I'm not going to judge you for being human."

He pulled the sleeve of his sweater over his hand and wiped away the remaining spit on my cheek causing blood to rush to my cheeks because, seriously? How embarrassing is it for a guy to see you looking like the Bride of Frankenstein?

"I actually had a reason for coming over so early. I should have waited, but I'm just really anxious, you know?" He sat beside me on my bed and eyed me intently.

"And why is that?" I asked while pushing back tangled strands of rosy hair.

"I've been thinking about that spirit you were talking about. I want to…meet him."

I slipped my bare legs out from under my blanket and yanked one of the long sleeves of my short, but tight fitting nightgown back over my shoulder and collarbone.

"This way."

Once we entered the bedroom, an obviously thrilled Beau sprinted to me, throwing his arms around my waist.

"Sister!" he exclaimed.

I giggled and returned the gesture. "Good morning, Beau."

Finally, Tate appeared, edging to Beau as he opened his arms. "Hey, big guy."

"BROTHER!" Beau shouted with even more enthusiasm than when he saw me.

I spun around to watch the two embrace and I knew Tate could see all the questions rising in my mind.

"Tate…" I muttered.

"There's a lot of things about me that I've been wanting to tell you."

"Is that really your brother?"

"Jetta, I…" he hesitated, shamefully looking to the ground and that's when it hit me in the gut. He didn't have to say anything because I _knew._

"You're dead." I uttered the words out loud, tasting them in my mouth.

"I'm sorry I-" he started.

"You don't need to be sorry. The amount of people who would actually believe what you're saying is a slim group and luckily, I just happen to fit into it."

"I knew you'd understand." He smirked and released Beau whom just looked from Tate to me with a broad grin.

"Of course, but I do hope you plan to enlighten on me how this all happened."

"I will. Beau, we'll come back later, okay?"

We ventured into the kitchen where I, once again, made coffee and puffed on a cigarette while he explained his relationship with Constance, why he was such a troubled boy, and the school shooting that lead to his death.

"Ones you liked, huh?" I asked while ashing my cigarette.

"Are you repulsed by me now?" his eyes appeared as if they were filling with tears.

"No, no. I'm not repulsed. Maybe a little concerned about your mental state, but hey, you're dead. I don't know, Tate. You being passed on blurs the lines of how I feel about your actions. It definitely wasn't right, though. I get that in your mind you were trying to 'free them from the horror of the world,' but they obviously had plans, good plans, and you stole that out from under their feet."

"But you don't…hate me?"

"No, I thought we just established that. You just have a warped reality on some things. You need to work through that."

"I'm trying, I promise that I'm trying."

"I believe you. No more killing people, okay? Murder goes against my moral beliefs and I'd hate to have to kick you to the curb since you're actually pretty cool and the only friend I really have now."

"I am?"

"Yeah? Tate, why are you getting so serious about this?" I laughed while putting my cigarette out.

"It's chill. You made a huge fuck up, now you're dead. I mean, what more kind of punishment do you need?"

"I just wasn't expecting…" he trailed off, staring at me in wonderment.

"I can't be easily scared, Tate. I figured you knew that. We're still okay, alright?"

He nodded before enveloping me into his arms and tightly squeezing me.

"Thank you…thank you…thank you…" he muttered over and over again as he sobbed into my chest.

I ran my hand over his hair, just allowing him to release his tears onto my skin. "It's okay, Tate."

Once darkness fell over the world, I decided I wanted to use my board again, especially after the events that had transpired earlier that day.

Salem pranced over to me, rubbing his body on my legs as I set everything up.

I smiled, kissing him on the top of the head once I had sat down.

As soon as my hands touched the planchette, it began to move.

_You're beautiful._

"Uh…who is this?"

_I don't want to say. _

I raised my eyebrow. "So, you just came through to tell me I'm beautiful?"

_I think I'm in love with you._


	6. Chapter Six

_Author Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited and reviewed it so far! I hope you all continue to like it and feel free to keep letting me know what you think about it. :)_

"You need to stay away from him."

I spun around, resulting in coffee splashing all over my toes which made me flinch and curse at the burn of the scorching liquid. It took me a moment to see the girl standing before me.

"Who?"

"Tate. You think you know what you're getting into with him, but you have no idea."

I sat my cup on the counter and yanked a cigarette out of the cardboard packaging to toss to her.

"Nice to meet you, Violet. I was wondering when I'd be blessed with your presence."

She aggressively snatched it up as she rolled her eyes. "You think it's a fucking game. It's not. He's not some pretty boy angel, he's killed people. He's not like us, people who are just attracted to the darkness. He _is_ the darkness."

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know."

Her expression switched to perplexed as the wheels in her mind began to turn. "He told you?"

"Yeah. Trying to save people from the shit and the piss of the world by killing them and hoping they go somewhere better? I'm completely aware. Oh, and the guy Constance was using? What an asshole."

She furrowed her brows in annoyance. "Look, I'm trying to help you. I didn't think I needed that kind of support either, but look at me now: just a silhouette of a girl that used to exist."

"I'm not a damsel in distress. I don't want your help and I don't need it. I get that he's your ex and jealously may have a part to play in why you're acting like this, but there's not even anything going on between us. He's the only person here who I've clicked with and honestly, even if he is the epitome of destruction, he's been better to me than most of the other people I've known throughout my life."

"Whatever. You do what you want, but if you don't leave, spirits are either going to start trying to run you off or kill you."

"Then I dare them to come after me 'cause they're going to have one hell of challenge."

Once she vanished, I wandered over to Moria. I had questions bouncing around in my head that I had to ask her.

"Moria, you got a minute?"

"Of course, Miss. Addams." She gently placed her duster down and sat me down on the couch beside her.

"Tate told me a lot about the history of this house..."

"I see. You and Tate have been spending a lot of time together lately; it doesn't surprise me that he would eventually inform you of some of the misfortunes of this place."

"Yeah…well…we've discussed the fact that there are some very realistic spirits inhabiting this place and it's been brought to my attention that him and Beau are just that."

Her eyes widened. "What are you trying to say?"

"Moria, I know you're no longer alive. It makes perfect sense why you were so eager to clean the house now. You don't have a choice, do you?"

Her eyes began to fill up with tears. "Oh, Miss. Addams, it's been so long since I've had the freewill to do what I really want to do."

I softly rested my hand on hers. "And what's that?"

"To be free. I want to be free. But I wanted many things when I was alive, too: a loving husband, children, a simple and happy existence…but I was a tramp. My actions ruined everything I ever dreamed of."

That slight build of tears flooded down her cheeks and I instantly felt remorseful for the fate she had been enduring for so long.

"Why don't you just live here? I mean, it would still be awesome if you cleaned, but instead of 'going home,' why don't you just stay here with me? I don't have a mother and you wanted a child…I'm no trophy daughter, but maybe I could suffice."

She smiled through her waterworks at me. "Nonsense. If I had raised a daughter like you, I would have been a fulfilled mother…is that really something you'd want? An old lady like me lingering around, breathing over your shoulder, and trying to save your from my mistakes?"

I smiled. "Are you kidding? How many people would have the chance to say their mother is a ghost? Moria, you're just as much a mother to me as my birth mom. I'll even go buy you some clothes so you can get out of that damn maid outfit if you want."

She lightly laughed at me. "Well, Jetta…_daughter_," she paused for a moment, taking the weight of the word into her mind with a grin, "I would very much love that."


	7. Chapter Seven

I was startled awake in the dead of night with a knife to my throat.

"Tate? What the fuck!" I screeched, pushing him backwards.

"The more I get to know you, the more I understand that what I thought about you when you first moved to this house was true." He muttered.

"Would you like to enlighten me?"

"Violet…she's all alone and she needs someone…and if she won't let me keep her company…it has to be you...I'm so sorry."

"Do you still love her?"

He stared at me, tears pouring out of his eyes. "I-I have to. I swore I'd wait forever. I-"

"Tate, do you love her or are you trying to cling to an old promise because it's all you know?"

He started to raise the knife again as he edged closer to me. "I have to."

I gripped the wrist of his arm that was coming towards me, taking him by surprise. "You're not going to kill me."

"Jetta…"

"You're not going to kill me if you're in love with me." I finally finished.

Merely that statement, those words, caused the knife to slip from his hand and catapult to the floor with a triumphant crash.

"I love you." He whispered to himself as more of a realization that had just hit him rather than a statement to me.

His hands were gripped around my neck then, pulling my face to his so he could kiss me hard and eagerly and passionately, leaving me breathless with a raging fever that only he could cure.

He fell back on the bed, pulling me into his lap as he ripped off my shirt and began to trace down my spine with his fingertips. His hands stroked my chest as the trail of kisses that started on my jaw progressed down to my collarbone.

My body had felt like it had been frozen behind layers of ice and his touch was the only thing that made it all melt away as I was brought back to life.

My mind was spinning. I hadn't even thought about Tate in this way before, but with every kiss and touch and bite, I found myself burning with desire for him. I wanted every part of him in every way I could have him.

It all happened so fast that I couldn't even begin to keep up. One minute I was sitting on him and the next he was on top of me with our pants hurled onto the floor. It all became a blur then, a lustful blur of perfection as I cried his name into the atmosphere.

When it was over, I laid on top of him, my head resting on his chest as he stroked my hair.

"Tate…we just…" I muttered.

"Made love?" he answered for me.

I turned my face to him. "Yeah. It was incredible."

"It was for me, too."

"This night has been bizarre."

"Jetta, I really meant what I said. I'm in love with you."

I hesitated for a moment, trying to comprehend what I felt for him. "I…I think I'm in love with you, too."

It made sense why I hadn't seen any of it coming, I had never been in love. When you're an individual in a town full of replicas of each other, there's no question as to why you've never had that sweep you off your feet kind of feeling about anyone before.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you." He said as he slipped my pink hair behind my ear.

"You have my undivided attention."

He grinned towards my hair, fully displaying his dimples. "Why pink?"

My face instantly flushed to the color of my hair. "I don't know, really. I just wanted something to make me stand out. Oh, god. Do you think it's stupid?"

"No, I love it."

He quickly stole a kiss from me which lead to another heated moment that seemed impossible to tear myself away from.

"Are we going to put a title on this?" I asked him.

"I don't care what it's labeled as long as you're mine."

"I'm yours." I whispered back.


	8. Chapter Eight

"Oh, so now you're sleeping with him?"

I was quite rudely awakened by Violet eerily standing in my room with her eyes glued on me.

I glanced around my bed and noticed that Tate had vanished. I figured that was something I'd have to get used to.

"Are you trying to present yourself as a stalker or what?" I muttered back while stretching my arms up into the air.

"I told you this wasn't a game. Has he not told you what he did to my mother yet?"

"No, but I'll keep that in mind to ask him. "

"That'd be too easy. He might try to twist the story."

"He's been brutally honest with me so far. I mean, he told me about the people he killed, that takes some level of trust right there."

"He raped my mom."

I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. "He what?"

"He raped my mom and knocked her up. He has a kid and it's very likely a spawn of the devil."

"You need to leave." I ordered and with that, she disappeared.

"Tate! Show yourself. I know you're still here."

A trembling and miserable looking Tate emerged from the shadows and staggered to me.

"Jetta, I…I didn't want you to know…the monster inside of me…god dammit!"

"Calm down. Just explain to me why you did it."

His nerves appeared to be so shaken up that he had trouble talking without stammering. I gently caressed his back, coaxing him through it.

"Nora was always like a mother to me. She was there when Constance wasn't…but her baby is dead and she wanted one so bad, I watched her wallow in sorrow about it and I just wanted to help her, like she had helped me. I never meant to hurt anyone, Jetta. I just wanted to help. I wanted do something good for someone, for once."

He fell into my chest with tears streaming down his face. I gripped him tight. He was such a misunderstood boy, trying so hard to win the approval of those he cared about and never being able to do it quite right.

"You're going to leave me like everyone else did." He mumbled into my shirt.

"I'm not going to leave you. You just need some help learning the difference between what is right and what is wrong. I know you were trying to do a good thing, but like your choice to kill those innocent kids, that was the worst thing you could have done. "

"I want to learn right from wrong. I want you to teach me right from wrong."

"I will. But you have to pull yourself together first. Is that baby alive?"

When he pulled himself from me, I wiped his eyes with my tiny fingers.

"Constance has him."

"I want to see him."

"No…no, that's not a good idea. He's killed people. I don't want him to hurt you."

"Tate, think about it. Where was your mind when you made him?"

"I was alone and heartbroken."

"Exactly. You made him when your mind was restless and I may not know much about the world of being a ghost, but it seems to me that if a child was created through suffering then that's what would be spawned. Maybe if you had made the baby out of love, then that's the energy it would have been born with."

"I see the point you're making, but where are you going with it?"

"The power of love will always be stronger than hate. What if exposing him to positive energy could alter the negativity he was born with? And god, if he's living with Constance, there's no way he's been exposed to positivity yet. Plus, he's _your_ son, Tate. Would you want him to go without a dad like you did?"

"Jetta, I don't know. I heard Constance talking about how he killed the nanny and he's only four years old."

"I'm sorry, but you don't get any say in this. Even if you refuse to lure Constance into bringing him over here, I can still walk across the street to her house myself."

I hopped off the bed and started throwing off my nightgown and rummaging through the closet for clean clothes.

"I love that you're unable to be restrained from something you set your mind to. It's kind of attractive."

I pulled my arms through a black shirt and then found a pair of shorts to go with it.

"Contain yourself, lover boy. We don't need a second Tate Langdon running around just yet."

"Just yet?" he inquired.

I blushed. "I'm just saying that you can never tell what the future holds."

"That is a nice thought though, isn't it? A little person that's half you existing."

"Exactly. That's why you need to see him, Tate. He will need you."

"I'm not suitable to be a father."

"Not yet, but you will be."

I sprinted out the door, leaving Tate at the murder house as I made my way to Constance's doorstep and gently knocked on the door.

She creaked open the door, staring at me with a raging amount of suspicion. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I wanted to come visit and talk to you about some stuff."

"I can smell hidden motives on you a mile away."

I cringed, fearing she wouldn't let me into the door.

"You have some guts to try and come to see Michael, I'll give you that. Thankfully for you, I admire a woman who is fearless enough to even attempt it. Come in." she finally responded.

I strolled through the door, following her into the kitchen where she made me a cup of tea.

"Michael! Come down here, dear!" she shouted.

From behind a corner, a blonde haired boy with familiar dimples surfaced. He was a spitting image of Tate; it was beyond obvious he was the father.

"Hi there, Michael." I muttered.

First he glared at me, his eyes resembling the blackest of coals, but then his expression began to soften. Not enough to result in a smile, but enough to at least appear like a normal child.

"I knew something would happen between you and Tate. I knew it when Violet was alive, too. He seems to be attracted to resilient women, although I'd say you fit that definition a little more than Violet did considering I don't see those cuts on your wrists, too."

"Tate is a very misguided soul. He needs help being pushed in the right direction, but I believe he has always meant well."

"I think the house is what has driven him to the many acts of madness he has done. He never showed any signs of being psychotic before the damn murder house." She puffed on a cigarette before tossing me one as well.

"The house has acquired some demons throughout the years, I presume."

"Demons would be an understatement. I'd say it's created them more than acquired."

"He looks just like Tate, Michael."

She smiled widely at the words. "He's given my life meaning once again. After losing my Addie, I thought I had lost it all."

"Have you considered letting Tate have a relationship with him? Considering he is his son and all."

"Tate has never acted as though that was something he wanted and I don't know how I would feel about him going over to that house…I don't want him to be tainted."

"He already is tainted. He was made through the epitome of suffering. He needs to be shown positivity if there's any chance at redeeming his soul."

"His soul doesn't need to be saved."

"Is that what you told yourself when he killed the nanny?"

Constance hastily put out her cigarette before sighing. "How would Tate being in the picture help Michael? I love my son, but the darkness he has carried with him would only make things worse."

"Give me some time to work with Tate before they're introduced. Give me until Halloween, when spirits can roam the earth. I'm going to try and help him."

She chuckled. "Oh, honey, you wouldn't be the first."


	9. Chapter Nine

As I awoke that morning, my blurry vison adjusted to an image of Tate sitting at the end of my bed, a cup of coffee in one hand and my pack of cigarettes in the other.

"Good morning, sleepy head. I've been waiting for you to wake up for a while now." His voice sang into my ear.

I blissfully sighed. "You know me so well. Coffee and cigarettes, my two favorite things."

I gently grabbed the steaming cup and sat it down into my crossed legs as I lit my cigarette.

"What's our plans for today?" Tate asked.

"Hmm. I haven't planned that far yet."

"Does that possibly mean we could do something I have in mind?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, what is it that you have in mind, Mr. Langdon?"

"I wanted to introduce you to some of the other spirits here…" he proposed with an inquiring look on his face.

"As long as I can take my shower before then that would be just fine."

He smiled, his adorable dimples being plainly visible. "It's not like they haven't already seen you. It's your first impression of them, not them of you."

"Oh, is that so? How long did you watch me before you finally introduced yourself to me then?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I…couldn't take my eyes off you the moment you stepped out of your car and into this house."

"What was it then? Love at first sight?"

"Maybe. It was a confusing situation because of my past with Violet. I was scared to feel anything for someone else."

"But now?"

"Now I know that there's no one I'd rather be with."

"Good answer."

I took the last sip of the warm liquid in a huge gulp and kissed Tate's cheek as I drifted out of my bed.

"Shower time for me." I yawned as I stretched my arms into the air.

"I'll be waiting here for you."

"We have to go to the basement to meet them?" I asked as we made our way down the creaking stairs.

"The basement is kinda like…a safe haven for us." Tate explained.

"So, basically, you all picked the sketchiest place in the entire house and label it as the place that's harmless?"

He chuckled at me. "Something like that."

When I finally made it to the bottom floor, I was surrounded by spirits with all their eyes locked on me.

"How many people have attached themselves to this house?"

"Quite a few, as you can see."

"So, this is her? The girl who can see us?"

A beautiful woman with blonde hair and old fashioned clothing strolled over to me, taking my hand into hers with a smile.

Tate nodded. "Jetta, this is the Nora that I told you about."

"Nora…so nice to meet you."

"Even nicer to meet you, my dear. We've been waiting for quite some time to meet you."

"Over there are the twins, the two nurses, and…there's one more person I want you to meet." Tate said.

"Well, lead the way."

"You're going to show her that…that thing? That monster? That abomination that my husband-" Nora started.

"Nora, I don't want to hear it." Tate cut her off.

"Whoa, guys, how about we not have any negative vibes?" I cut in.

"She's right." Tate stated as he grabbed my hand and led me further into the darkness of the basement.

"What are you showing me that Nora hates so much?"

"When he was alive, his name was Thaddeus."

Out from the shadows, a monster of a human emerged and made me feel slightly startled by the sight of him.

When I come across Beau, there was still loving energy about him that kept me from feeling uneasy, but this thing…this…child had a darkness that followed him in almost the same way Michael's did.

He wobbled to me, reaching his hand out towards me.

"Tate…what happened to him?"

He filled me in then on what had led up to the horrific event and how Charles, wanting so desperately to win Nora's affection, tried to piece him back together in such a gruesome way.

"Does he have a conscience? Has he been able to retain his humanity?"

"To an extent, yes, but I'm one of the few people he's shown that humanity to."

Thaddeus continued to edge closer to me until his hand was eventually resting on my cheek.

Up close, he looked even more ghastly, but I did my best to stay calm. I didn't want to make him feel ashamed, the poor boy couldn't help it, and I kept reminding myself of that.

"Good." Thaddeus declared as he stared at me.

"Yes, she is good. She's a very good person." Tate replied to him.

"Full of love." Thaddeus added.

I nodded, shivering under the chilliness of his fingers on my face.

"She can stay." He finally reveled before disappearing back into the darkness, out of Tate and I's view.

"I think he likes you!" Tate said with a grin.


End file.
